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gentle, gentle, gentle bird: a poem to myself

gentle bird,

bring that wander-lust in. 

mend and restore 
what has been broken. 

so many years, of broken, 
many shed tears & cries of confusion

war in bodies, 
across centuries. 

gentle, gentle, gentle bird 

calm the fangs of blood 
aimed at yourself

rest and reflect
on these stories 
in your body, 

and remember 
to circle above 
and see from there
too. 

all is convening 
to come together 
and give you a chance
to put down that heavy 
weight 
and 
move 

on 
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